


Pin Me Down

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura saves the day, Blushing, Crack, Guest Stars, M/M, sexual context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lance gets stuck in a vending machine. Hunk joins him as a result of a bad decision. 
They take Keith hostage after he attempts to take the opportunity of Lance being stuck to have some alone time; instead of helping them. He gets more flustered than irritated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is CRACK!
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes xxxxxxx
> 
> Thanks for reading what's working title was "Stupid"

 

“Keith,” Lance moans. 

He looks up with slanted eyes, the blur of his lashes in his view, and gives Lance one of his last smirks of the night. “You look ridiculous right now.”

Wriggling around, Lance gasps, a smile on his lips. “Who told you I have a humiliation kink?”

“Your mother.”

Lance shoots Keith a dirty look. “Don’t be fucking gross.”

“She’s lovely. She made us pot-less brownies, which… I’m sure there’s some left over, so I don’t know why you would want a _Snickers_ or _Maltesers_ ,” Keith pointedly points out, eyebrows raised. He hits the side of the vending machine.

Lance attempts to kick Keith, his leg striking out. The machine shakes. “ _Keith_. Fuck you. You’re gonna break my neck.”

“Have you tried getting out?” Keith asks. He stretches his legs out and lights up his phone screen before he sees that it’s empty and leans back on his palms.

“Of course I have. Fucking idiot. What do you think I’ve been doing?”

“For how long?” Keith cocks his head to the side, amused as he can be.

This is the best thing that he’s seen in a while. It beats the time that Hunk’s smoothie – the one he made from a banana and berries – exploded all over the kitchen and, as a result of Lance being there to steal Keith’s yoghurt, Lance. This also tops the time Pidge strangled Lance with the aux cord after he played Nicki Minaj one too many times.

“I don’t know. Get me _out_ , Keith,” Lance grits out.

Keith hums, “Mmmmm. I don’t know.”

“Get your pretty fucking face right now and get me out of here _right now_ ,” Lance says, wriggling again.

“LANCE, is #24 jammed again?” Hunk kindly and enthusiastically asks as he appears at the end of the hallway. Lance attempts to spin around to follow the sound of his best friends voice.

“Hey, Hunk,” Lance says, head craned upwards. He huffs, “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Could you please get me out?”

Hunk crawls beside Lance, his head already endeavouring to stick through the opening flap. “Here, ‘k. Just let me get some _Space Goo_ for you first.”

“No, no, no, no, no – _Hunk_ ,” Lance screeches.

Hunk goes, “Uh oh.”

Keith sighs, wiping his eyes tiredly. “Seriously?”

“Keith, buddy,” Hunk says. At the same time, Lance says, “Keith, baby.” They both tell each other, “Shut up,” and Lance counters with, “No. You shut up. You’ll fuck this up. You can’t offer him a BJ.”

“Keith isn’t just a dick that wants to get wet, Lance.” Hunk actually sounds offended and Keith bristles with interest. “Offer him something like – like, emotional support!”

“Baby,” Lance calls out sweetly, gesturing to Keith with his foot, “You want me to lend you a shoulder to cry on?”

“Nah. You suck out all my sadness out of my dick,” Keith shortly replies, sucking on the gum of his cheek. He flicks his head to the side, making the hair that was brushing against his eyes flip behind his face.

“Unhealthy!” Hunk declares, “That is so unhealthy!”

“Have any of you even got a hold of anything?” Keith uninterestedly asks. He’s hungry. All that’s in the apartment is mouldy bread that was supposed to be PB&J sandwiches last week and a fresh cucumber. They might even have a dozen canned beans that Keith stress-purchased after spending a whole night talking about an apocalypse with Pidge. He doesn’t really feel like beans and, besides, the canned beans are for an extremely liable emergency.

Hunk sticks his tongue out as the machine rustles with wrappers. “Wait.” There’s some more rustling and then an, “Aha! Keith, buddy, I’ve got something!”

Keith leans forward and crawls, on his knuckles and knees, on the probably (definitely) filthy hallway carpet towards the two bodies spread out from the vending machine to the opposite wall. He puts his hand on Lance’s lower back and leans over him, and forward, to see what Hunk’s grappled out of it’s column.

“Space Goo?” Keith asks, narrowing his eyes. “Fucking predictable.”

Hunk drops it. It falls on Lance’s head. He grumbles and shakes it, so that the packet falls into the compartment. Keith hesitates to get it, because he might get stuck. Hunk then reaches for it with his unstuck hand and pulls it out, throwing it in Keith’s general direction.

“Thanks, Hunk. You’re the man,” Keith compliments. He sits back on his heels, opening the packet. “I think I might finish off my essay now that I’ve got some alone time in the apartment.”

“Fuck you!” Lance shouts.

“Don’t be out too late, Lance.”

“No,” Hunk hisses and he grabs Keith’s hip, just as he’s getting up.

Keith falls between the tiny space between Lance and Hunk with the pull. He scrambles to get out, but he can’t against Hunk’s bold grasp and Lance’s leg that is now holding down his own. Keith inhales in deeply before he’s dragged under Hunk’s body, ultimately stuck under him.

“Big guy, please,” Keith heaves out.

Lance’s leg presses against Keith’s. “Only if you promise to get us out.”

Keith squirms underneath Hunk, which results with Hunk pressing into him harder because it must feel like a threat of Keith attempting to escape. The weight on Keith’s entire body makes his face turn hot. He probably turns red. The contact is a lot; it’s everywhere. He’s so thankful that Hunk and Lance don’t have a proper view of him because of the—

He doesn’t feel as flustered anymore, as being on the verge of such a state isn’t easy when it’s because his boyfriend and his friend got stuck in a fucking vending machine.

“Hunk, let go right now or you’ll never ever see Lance again for your Thursday hour of dominance and masculinity at the gym _again_ ,” Keith threatens, successfully nuzzling his head between the two bodies so he can breathe the humid air of the stuffy building.

“Talk all you like, but that’ll never happen. Squash him, Hunk. Fucking _wreck_ him,” Lance orders, voice echoing through the machine’s shelves.

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith warns.

“I really thought better of you, Hunk,” a voice suddenly says, a whisk of intelligence and aloofness.

“Pidge!” Hunk calls out excitedly, moving to turn, “Help me get out! I’m STARVING.”

“They’re killing me!” Keith yells, trying to free himself.

“Pidge Pidge Pidge Pidge, my favourite. Can you just give me a little pull?” Lance suggests.

“I don’t know what type of agreement this is, but I’m positive that you guys need a safe word,” Pidge causally scrutinises them and steps on both Lance and Hunk as she makes her way to her apartment.

The step forces Hunk to press against Keith hard, but instead of freaking out about the confined space with loss of breath and damned thoughts, Keith gulps with a trembling ease.

“Hey,” he says once they’ve all stopped shouting for Pidge, and after Lance calls her, “Fucking idiot,”. “If you don’t trust me enough to let me out, just let me get my phone out and call Coran. He’ll get you out.”

“Where’s your phone?” Lance asks, sceptical.

“Pocket. My left pocket. Let me have one arm. I promise,” Keith reasons.

There’s a pause. The machine block shakes a little. Hunk then says, “I’ll get it for you,” and the blindly pats around Keith’s hip.

As the large hand presses fully onto Keith’s side, Keith labours his breathes into a steadiness that he’s perfected. Hunk’s fingers accidentally brush underneath his shirt, against his hot skin, as Hunk feels for the lining of his front pocket.

With a shattered breath, Keith chokes out, “Back pocket. It’s in the… back pocket.”

Lance quietly starts to laugh.

Hunk’s hand smoothes down Keith’s side, the denim itching into Keith’s skin. He leans his head back on the surface underneath his scalp, which turns out to be Lance’s upper back. Keith tries to get out again, but Hunk retracts his hand to steadily hold Keith down, and that starts the process of unsighted searching.

“Stay fucking still,” Hunk swears and gives Keith a little leeway by holding up his right leg to raise Keith’s hips up.

“Normally this is all it takes for him to nut,” Lance mindlessly says, voice smug.

Keith has it in him to scowl, “Fuck off.”

Finally – f _inally_ – Hunk finds the back left pocket and thus, Keith’s phone, but with a lot of gripping the round of Keith’s ass and tips of fingers brushing between his cheeks (Keith’s breath hitches). Hunk curses skinny jeans and their inconvenience in needs of practicality.

“Has he come?” Lance asks when Hunk announces the find with, “Aha!”

Hunk splutters, “What? No.” He holds the phone so that he can supposedly see it through the glass. He groans, “What’s your passcode?”

Keith hesitates, which Lance huffs at and says to Hunk, ”0-6-1-5,” and to Keith, “You can change it later, you big baby.”

Hunk coos. “Isn’t that your birthday, Lance? That’s so cute. I totally have faith in you two again, not that I – HOLY CROW.”

“Is it my dick?” Lance curiously asks, the machine shifting as he possibly attempts to see the screen. He then gasps, “Is it on the private folder? What did you see, child? The come shot? My ass? Keith’s dick? Both our cocks? What? Say it again?”

Hunk repeats louder, “Stop. It’s just your last message to Keith.”

Keith frowns for a moment, but then remembers. He starts to feel hot around his cheeks again, the flush almost reaching his chest. He gapes. Lance starts to howl with laughter at the thought of Hunk seeing the message: _do u think shiro waxes his asshole?_ It’s not the worst random question that Keith has left on ‘read’.

“Why is your name for Coran still ‘Landlord Coran’?” Hunk effectively changes the subject.

“I don’t message Coran.”

“Changed it and put a heart emoji,” Hunk says and lifts his body up a little bit. “Keith, you okay? After the call I’ll let you go.”

“Nah. He likes being under you,” Lance quips.

Hunk surprisingly teases, “Let’s do it more often.”

Keith shifts his hips before Hunk settles down again. It would be too strenuous to stay with hips up – a plank position – for too long. Keith doesn’t mind the weight on him. He’s managed to settle down a little and is now focusing on the heat of Lance’s skin underneath his head. He can hear a steady heartbeat. That sound and the warmth Hunk’s body is radiating, he can find a comfort in it.

“Hello?” Coran’s cracked voice comes from the phone. It must be on speaker. “This is a nice surprise, Keith.”

“It’s Hunk!” Hunk says loudly, followed by Lance’s greeting and Keith’s small, “Hey.”

“So, um, we’ve got a little problem… Are you in the building?”

“There isn’t another hole in one of my walls. Is there? Again? Boys,” Coran grumpily says.

“No, no, no,” Lance says quickly, “We’re stuck!”

“Coran, could you please head to the vending machine? I’ll buy you a beer,” Hunk chimes in.

Coran mysteriously dwells in a silence. “I’ll be a minute.”

Keith sighs in relief. “Can you let me go now?”

“What?"

“Nothing, Coran! Bye. Thank youuuu.” Hunk hangs up. He places his large hand on Keith’s chest (Keith’s heart speeds up). “Not until Coran gets here.”

Keith takes in a long breath. “You don’t need a hostage anymore.”

Lance vibrates with a laugh. “Settle down. You were gonna ditch us after we gave you candy, motherfucker. Probably watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine _without_ me.”

“To finish my report,” Keith corrects and kicks out his foot from underneath Hunk’s leg. Now he’s lying diagonally under Hunk, his crotch against Hunk’s stomach. He gulps drily – he shouldn’t think about his dick next to someone hot. Next to _two_ people that are hot.

Keith’s phone generically starts ringing. Hunk accepts it. “Yes?”

“The vending machine isn’t where I left it,” Coran shortly greets, “And if you lot have abandoned the Space franchise and made off with another one in another building I will be very—“

“Fifth floor! Keith moved it his floor! We love you and your snacks, Coran,” Lance rushes out before Coran assumes the worst.

“The fifth?! Hardly any people go up to the fifth floor. Keith, you’ve really disappointed me. How are we supposed to make our snacks go viral if they’re on a floor that only you, Lance, Hunk and Pidge go up to? Huh? I’m sorry, lads. I have something in the oven.” Coran angrily hangs up.

Keith closes his eyes with exasperation. It wasn’t him but _Lance_ who struggled pushing up the vending machine to their floor when the fridge was empty last week.

Hunk then says, “Keith, I’m letting you go, but I’m keeping your phone and if you don’t get us out I _will_ send Shiro something for the so-called Private Folder.”

Lance snorts, “He’d thank you for that. He’s got a crazy, stupid crush for Shiro’s ass.” He hums. “Even yours, Hunk.”

“Really?” Hunk sounds delighted.

Keith stutters, “N-no. I mean it’s nice looking, but I don’t have a… I don’t have a _crazy stupid crush_ for it.”

“Can I get stuck in a vending machine tomorrow so that Keith says my ass is nice looking again?” Hunk sighs.

“If you strip naked in our room tonight he would,” Lance casually says.

Keith gapes at the air and stops breathing just so that his stomach doesn’t move against Hunk.

“Wouldn’t you?” Lance urges, and suddenly this isn’t just silly banter.

It’s their Talk. It’s what they do before Lance or Keith gets on their knees, or when Lance wore that blue lacy piece; or when they made out heatedly in Pidge’s bathroom; or when Keith begs for come on his face… it’s something that they’re both passionate for. It brings the both of them down in shreds, makes them want incredibly more than clothed bodies and close-lipped kisses. It’s something that only works when both of them are in the mood for it, for the seductive glances and the suggestive tones.

“Lance, can we do this after your head’s out of this thing?” Keith hisses, bumping his head twice against Lance’s chest before closing his eyes.

Hands suddenly grab his shoulders and pull him up. His hand spasms with surprise and he hits something rock hard, slightly wet with sweat and that yells, “I’m helping you!” Keith still kicks out. “My shin!”

He gets set on the ground and apologises. “Sorry, Princess.”

“My strong goddess,” Lance dreamily sighs, as Allura pulls him out without a struggle. He pops out of the vending machine slot with a grin. “I feel like I’ve been born again.” He stretches out, his t-shirt rising up displaying a tanned line of stripped skin.

Hunk’s next. Allura still doesn’t struggle. She lets out a long exhale, hands placed on her hips. “That was thrilling.”

“Angel,” Hunk whispers.

Allura then pushes the vending machine down the hallway, her hamstrings straining beautifully.

“Wait!” Lance calls out to her, “How?”

“Coran,” Allura grits out, “cannot face you men, because you wounded him. So he sent me."

Keith stretches his arms up to the ceiling and then grabs Lance’s arm, pulling him up to his feet and look at the harsh red mark carved into the skin. He rubs his hand over it slowly. Lance slumps against him, energy worn out.

“So,” Lance slyly begins and Keith holds his breath to hear what’s next. “Can we do that again? Together. But this time naked. And with a bed.”

He doesn’t say a word as he snakes Lance’s sore arm around his shoulders and makes his way down the hall, towards their apartment. The door’s unlocked and he cruises in, but Lance stays in the doorway.

“What about Hunk?” Friendly, kind Hunk… what about him?

He doesn’t look at Lance whilst he loudly says, “Yes.”

His shirt’s off before the door fully closes. And there are large hands on the sides of his waists a few seconds after is slams shut.

Later, as he’s loud and shuddering, a voice hushes by his ear, “You’re really quiet when you’re propositioning someone, ya know?”

“That’s why he has me,” another voice says and says something else, but Keith disturbs it to muffled words. It ends with, “Oh, _again_. Do that again.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i actually planned/half-wrote their threesome but i could NOT add that into this horrendous thing. maybe next time;)
> 
> THANKS FOR READING ANGELS


End file.
